We Begin
by Kerialla
Summary: Rent fic. The story of everyone meeting and afterwards. There's a chapter 6 now, but it's sort of a half update.
1. Collins

A/N: Most of the characters in this story are not mine. They were created by Jonathan Larson. I use them only for my own amusement. Another note is that I began writing this story two years ago. That was back when I thought that Rent was "okay" and only wrote this to get rid of writer's block. So some parts are choppy or otherwise imperfect. I'd appreciate comments on how to make it flow a little better. Because right now I don't really know what to do with it. Some people who read it before seemed to like it, though I don't know if they were just being nice, but it should be readable. Oh yeah.this takes place Pre-Rent.  
  
Part 1-Collins  
  
"Class is dismissed. Have a wonderful graduation." The teacher smiled as students passed through the door. Several cheers were heard from the members of the class.  
  
Thomas B. Collins laughed. It was finally over. Now he would be able to relax in virtual reality heaven.  
  
"Hey," Billy greeted him at the door.  
  
"Hey," Collins said right back to him.  
  
They linked hands and strode down the hall together.  
  
"So, Tom." Billy stopped him in the middle of the hall and took his other hand. "What are you going to do now?"  
  
"Well, I guess I'll have to find a job, right?" he replied.  
  
"Right." Billy smiled at him. "But I sort of meant right this minute, now."  
  
"Oh." Collins gave a short laugh before asking, "What do you want to do now?"  
  
"Oh, I was thinking."  
  
"Really?"  
  
Billy broadened his smile. "C'mon."  
  
Billy took Collins to a room. A room that was completely done up in candles.  
  
"So, what do you think?" Billy asked.  
  
"I think." Collins took a breath, then exhaled. "I think that it's wonderful."  
  
"Good. Very good."  
  
They locked in a kiss.  
  
------------  
  
The next day, Collins woke up in the bed, and Billy was gone.  
  
"Billy?" he ventured out loud. No answer.  
  
He found a note on the bedside table. It simply said "Sorry." That was it.  
  
What did this mean? Collins went out to look for Billy, but to no avail. He couldn't find him anywhere. After several hours of looking everywhere, anywhere, for him, Collins went to his dorm to put on his cap and gown. After all, he was graduating. But somehow it didn't seem such a cheery thought anymore.  
  
When he finally got to the graduation, everything ran smoothly. His name was called, he received his diploma, all the caps where thrown up in the air, as well as two beach balls and lots of silly-string.  
  
He finally spotted Billy after the ceremony.  
  
Collins grabbed him by the shoulder, and turned him around so they were face to face.  
  
"What." Collins got a grip on himself before continuing. "What happened? What's wrong?"  
  
"Tom, I don't know a good way to say this to you-I don't know if there is a good way to say this to you." Billy looked distressed. He sighed deeply.  
  
"Just say it," Collins urged.  
  
Billy looked down at his feet before turning his face back up to Collins and with a deep breath, he answered, "I have AIDS."  
  
"What?" Collins was stunned. "When did you find that out? Just now?"  
  
"Umm.. No, Tom." Billy took a deep breath. "I've known for a year now."  
  
"But you.you.." Collins collected himself enough to complete the sentence. "You didn't tell me?" He squeaked on the end of it.  
  
Billy looked away. "I'm-I'm sorry."  
  
"Sorry? You're sorry?" Collins still hadn't figured out the full force of this revelation, and he just turned and started to walk away.  
  
"Tom, wait!" Billy called.  
  
"Don't-" Collins shook his head. "Don't talk to me."  
  
He ran. He didn't exactly know where he was going or why. He finally had to stop to catch his breath. Just a little while ago his head was in a virtual land. That was so much easier than real life. So much better. But now.  
  
Finally, he realized what all that had happened really meant. It just hit him.  
  
"ACTUAL REALITY!!" he screamed into the air. 


	2. Roger

Part 2-Roger  
  
A classroom. An English classroom, to be exact. The words "Congratulations Class of '89!" scrawled on the blackboard.  
  
In this classroom, Roger Davis, yearbook in hand, got up to leave with the rest of the class when the bell had finally rung.  
  
He was just about to put his first foot out into freedom, when Ms. Dell, the teacher, called, "Roger, will you stay for a second, please?"  
  
Roger stayed frozen for a second with his foot poised halfway through the door already, then turned around and faced the teacher.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
She looked at him for a second before beginning to speak. "I'm sorry for what was happening with you earlier," she began. Roger looked at his feet. "But you really are quite a talented student."  
  
Roger looked up sharply. "I am?" he asked.  
  
She walked towards him. "You are quite a gifted poet." She smiled. "But it's strange, the way they're written is like-"  
  
"A song." Roger finished.  
  
The teacher raised an eyebrow.  
  
"It's the only way I know how to write, Ms. Dell."  
  
She nodded. "Very well," she said finally. "You may go."  
  
Roger hesitated for a while, as if confused by the whole situation, then turned and left.  
  
------------  
  
A few days later Roger found himself walking. Not really anywhere in particular, just somewhere. Wherever his feet decided to take him.  
  
His feet came to a halt right outside an old shop where something in the window caught his eye.  
  
It was a guitar. Definitely not particularly special in any way, but it caught his eye nonetheless.  
  
Roger used to have a guitar. Back before.. He shook the thought out of his head. It wasn't worth it.  
  
A few minutes later, Roger had already gone inside, bought the guitar and was sitting on a nearby curb strumming it softly.  
  
On a whim, he started picking up a melody on it, he started really getting into it when a voice interrupted him by saying, "You play that thing really well."  
  
Roger stopped playing and looked up at the owner of the voice. It was a girl slightly tall, thin and beautiful, with a slight Hispanic look about her.  
  
"Well, I didn't mean for you to stop," she complained.  
  
She gave him a small, sultry smile and he raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
"Name's April," she told him. "You?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Do those looks come with a name?" She smirked.  
  
"Oh. Roger."  
  
"Cool. Nice to meet you." She gave him a once-over. "Very nice."  
  
Roger got up from his place on the curb. "You're not from around here." It was a statement.  
  
She answered it anyway. "No, I'm not. And I probably won't be staying for long, either."  
  
Roger nodded. "Where're you heading?"  
  
"Wherever I feel like," April told him. "Probably New York."  
  
Roger looked down the street as if not quite sure how to continue this conversation, or how to stop it. For some reason, he had the gut feeling that he wasn't going to stop it.  
  
"Wanna come with?" April asked.  
  
"Come with you to New York?" Roger questioned.  
  
"That's what I said."  
  
Roger considered this. This was a point in his life where he had a choice. He could go home, where his mother would be, probably with some guy who was just using her and being a total jerk until he finally left her for someone younger and more attractive. Life would continue in its usual cycle, and he would forget this mysterious girl who just happened upon his life. Or he could choose the other path. He could follow April, and his life would be opened up to new experiences, to the realm of the unexpected.  
  
"Sure. I'll come."  
  
"Good." She smiled again, enticing him.  
  
Roger found himself smiling back at her. A thought struck him. "I have to stop someplace first," he said.  
  
"No problem."  
  
Roger walked as fast as his feet could carry him to the post office. He never looked behind him, but he could sense April following him. Hear the slight fall of her footsteps coming after his.  
  
When he finally swept through the door, he could see April waiting just outside for him.  
  
He took a postcard off the rack, paid for it, found a pen that he had stuck in his pants pocket, and hastily wrote out:  
  
Mom,  
  
I'm leaving. Probably to New York.  
  
Roger  
  
He looked it over before adding the word "love" before his name, and then adding, "I'll call."  
  
He got a packet of stamps, put one on it, and walked outside and over to the mailbox, where he dropped it in.  
  
He looked at April. "Lead on," he instructed.  
  
----------  
  
"So, how long have you been doing this for?"  
  
Roger wasn't sure how to do this. He wasn't used to it, at least not as of late. That was the only thing he could come up with to say.  
  
"What?" April asked him.  
  
"Oh, you know.traveling."  
  
"About a year," she answered him.  
  
"How old are you?" He couldn't help but ask.  
  
She laughed softly. "What's with the third degree?"  
  
"Oh.. Forget it." Roger looked out the window of the bus they were in. Headed towards New York City.  
  
"No, it's okay," April told him. "I'm sixteen."  
  
Roger looked back at her and she paused before adding, "High School drop- out."  
  
"Oh." Roger looked at the window again, then said, "I'm eighteen."  
  
Part of him could hardly believe she was only sixteen.  
  
Sixteen.  
  
He let that thought fade out, not letting it reach a conclusion.  
  
April's voice brought him out of his thoughts. "Just graduated?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah." Roger hesitated, then said, "Almost didn't."  
  
"At least you stuck it out," April told him. "Sometimes I wish I stayed in school. But I didn't, so I don't like to think about it." Her eyes glazed over for a second before refocusing. "I've got too many regrets to be wasting one on school," she said, almost under her breath.  
  
Roger nodded. That made sense.  
  
-------------  
  
When they arrived in the city, they just wandered around, doing nothing in particular, but having fun at whatever they decided to do.  
  
Finally, their wanderings took them to a place much less appealing to the eye.  
  
April look at the crumbling buildings in distaste. "Ugh. I think we're in Alphabet City."  
  
"Alphabet City?" Roger inquired.  
  
"Oh, you know.. All these crooks and drug dealers." She looked at him sternly. "I don't do drugs," she told him forcefully.  
  
"Right. Of course. Neither do I."  
  
Roger let his mind wander backwards in time, back to a time where that statement would not have been true. He hadn't told April that that was the culprit for him almost not graduating from high school. Sometimes he himself couldn't believe that that had taken up a year and a half of his life. His thoughts went back to the end of Sophomore year. Sixteen.. He let the thought trail off once more.  
  
April's eyes wandered over to where a man was selling some sort of fruit drink. It was bottled, so she didn't think that it would be spiked. "I'm parched," she complained aloud.  
  
Roger spotted the man as well. "Me to."  
  
After the drink was bought, April held it in her hand, but made no move to drink it. Instead, her eyes wandered over the street and she started walking. Roger followed her.  
  
They stopped when they came to a spot where there was a person crumpled in a heap on the ground.  
  
He got up as if he knew someone had approached him. It was a black man, probably in his early twenties, and very drunk.  
  
The man staggered toward them, and stopped not far from them. He looked Roger up and down several times, gave him a goofy, drunken grin, and then collapsed on top of him.  
  
--------------  
  
When the man awoke, he was being looked upon by two people, one of which announced, "He's waking up."  
  
He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. "What-" he began. Then he fuzzily remembered what had happened. "Oh." He paused. "I'm sorry."  
  
He looked at the two people staring at him, one girl and one guy.  
  
After a moment's silence the guy spoke. "Who are you?" he asked.  
  
Regaining his composure, and remembering his James Bond, he replied, "Collins. Tom Collins."  
  
Roger, not really in the state of getting it, said, "Okay, Collins. I'm Roger, and this is April."  
  
Collins decided to forget Roger's misunderstanding. He wanted to start over, didn't he? Might as well be called something different. "Hi."  
  
"So, what brings you here?" April asked.  
  
"Oh, uh." Collins tried to remember the incidents of the past month. "I was at my Collage graduation, and.and I found out.I found out that.that I have.I have." He gulped. "I have AIDS."  
  
"Oh, that's horrible." April replied.  
  
Roger nodded. "Then what happened?"  
  
"Well, you see, I was planning on going on a European vacation. Sort of as celebration."  
  
"And you didn't end up going?" April asked. She finally took a gulp of the drink she was holding, then handed it to Roger.  
  
"Oh, I went," Collins told them. "I went to all different countries, but not really caring. When I was in Greece, I got really drunk, and I." he trailed off for a second.  
  
Roger took a drink from the bottle, and put it down.  
  
Collins finished, "I ran naked through the Parthenon."  
  
All of a sudden, April burst into hysterical giggles.  
  
Roger looked dumbfounded. "What's-" he began, the he burst into laughter himself. He suddenly felt like this entire situation, as well as life in general, was completely hilarious.  
  
Collins gave them both a strange look. "It wasn't that funny."  
  
Then he looked at the fruit drink. "Where'd you get this?" he asked them.  
  
"On the street," April replied between giggles.  
  
Collins sighed.  
  
Roger couldn't stop himself from laughing, not even for a second. It had been a long time since he'd had something like this, and every part of him was enjoying it again..  
  
The laughter eventually faded into blackness. 


	3. Benny

A/N: Just a little note for future reference. Some characters may seem out of character from what we've seen of them in these beginning parts. This is pretty much on purpose. I believe that people's experiences are what make them who they are.  
  
Part 3-Benny  
  
"I'm going now!" Benjamin Coffin III announced proudly to his parents.  
  
"Good luck!" his father told him and firmly shook his hand.  
  
His mother looked nervous. "Oh, I don't know, Ben. Maybe he should stay just a little while longer?"  
  
"He'll be fine, Dear," the older man responded. "Won't you, Benny?"  
  
"Yes, Dad," Benny responded, his smile broadening every moment. "I'm going to New York. The City of Dreams."  
  
"See? That's my boy!" his father exclaimed.  
  
"Just be careful," his mother advised him.  
  
"I will, Mom," he told her.  
  
Then he hugged his mother goodbye, and left without another word.  
  
----------  
  
A year later, Benny was sitting on the stoop of a building with a suitcase in his hand and nowhere to go.  
  
He had wanted to go to the City of Dreams, but instead, ended up in the City of Nightmares. The City of Dreams was the other side of town.  
  
The door behind him had been boarded up and the stoop he sat on stunk really badly. Benny would bet all that he had that someone had pissed on it.  
  
Now, Benny considered himself to be fairly smart. He had skipped a couple of grades in school and had managed to maintain a pretty decent B-average all the way through high school. He had done well in Collage also. So where along the line did he make the fatal mistake that had landed him here?  
  
No matter how hard he tried to get a job, there always seemed to be someone who was better than him, that always got the job and left him in the dust.  
  
He had been sitting there for a little over an hour when someone else approached him.  
  
The man extended Benny a hand. "You look like someone who needs someplace to stay," he said. "I'm Collins."  
  
"Benny. And yeah, I guess I do need somewhere to stay." He looked at Collins nervously, as if he might suddenly attack.  
  
Collins laughed, a deep hearty laugh, which made Benny calm down a little. "You can stay with us."  
  
"Us?"  
  
"Me and a couple of friends." He paused, and then continued, "Which is incorrect grammar, but I don't care."  
  
Benny laughed. This guy wasn't so bad after all.  
  
------------  
  
When they arrived, Benny noticed Roger sitting on a table working out a melody on his guitar. He looked up as Collins and Benny entered.  
  
"Hey, Collins," Roger greeted. "Whose this?"  
  
"This is Benny, he'll be staying with us," Collins answered. "Where's April?"  
  
"Out," Roger stated simply.  
  
Collins didn't push it. He took out a bottle of alcohol and took a swig from it. Then, he offered it out to Benny.  
  
"No thank you," Benny declined. "I'm not drinking age yet. My 21st birthday isn't until a couple of months, still."  
  
"So?" Roger said. Then he took the bottle from Collins and drank from it as if he was proving a tremendous point.  
  
Collins laughed. "Roger's nineteen."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"It's really a wonderful example for today's youth," Roger laughingly explained.  
  
"Yeah." Collins chuckled. "Don't drink underage. Unless you're Roger Davis."  
  
"Or his girlfriend," a voice said from the doorway.  
  
April walked in and sat herself on Roger's lap. He put the drink down, and without another word, they started making out with each other.  
  
Benny couldn't help but stare.  
  
April stopped kissing Roger and got up. She said, "Come on," and lead him to a bedroom that was leading off from the main room. Roger shut the door behind them.  
  
Benny stared at the closed door.  
  
Collins shook his head. "I wonder what they're doing."  
  
"You wonder?" Benny squeaked.  
  
"Well, they're either," Collins lowered his voice, "experiencing the pleasures of the world, or." he took on a worried tone. "Or April just got a new stash and decided to share."  
  
Benny didn't get this for a second, then he realized. "They're junkies!?!" His eyes shot back nervously to the door.  
  
"That doesn't make them bad people," Collins told him. "I just don't like it when they get into the big stuff. It makes me nervous that someday they're going to get stuck with a needle that isn't going to be a good one."  
  
"I didn't realize that there were good needles."  
  
"Well, I-I just meant-I wouldn't want." Collins stammered, then trailed off. "Forget it."  
  
----------  
  
Benny and Collins had been engaged in some friendly conversation about computers when Roger and April made their way back out of the room. They were obviously high.  
  
They were clinging to each other and then all of a sudden, collapsed on the floor. They started laughing.  
  
Benny stopped what he was saying mid-sentence and stared at the couple once more.  
  
Collins sighed and looked over them. "What was it this time?"  
  
"Oh, no worries." Roger waved his hand in front of his eyes in the general direction of Collins. "No needles, just some good old-fashioned powder."  
  
Collins sighed again. "Get up."  
  
"Fine. Pushy, pushy," April complained. She tried to push herself away from Roger, but found she didn't have the strength to, as he pulled her back towards him. She started laughing again.  
  
Roger stopped her laughter by kissing her deeply.  
  
Collins closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, shook his head, walked back towards Benny and sat down.  
  
Benny guessed that this was life now. 


	4. Mark

Part 4-Mark  
  
Just as Mark Cohen was about to reach for the door handle, a voice interrupted him.  
  
"Mark, honey," it said, "do you really think you should be doing this?"  
  
Mark turned back around. This was all that he needed, another reason from his mother not to go to the City.  
  
"Yes, Mom. I'm going."  
  
"Are you sure? I mean, will you be alright?" She was worried.  
  
"I'll be fine," he told her. "You were okay with me going alone to collage, so what's the difference now?"  
  
His mother sighed. "Why don't you go back to collage?"  
  
Mark shook his head. "No, Mom. That's just not what I want to do. We've discussed this before. Please?"  
  
Mrs. Cohen sighed deeply. "Then why can't you just stay here?"  
  
"I'm not going to be able to earn an artistic living in Scarsdale."  
  
"Your father and I will support you for as long as you need."  
  
"I'm nineteen, Mom," Mark protested. "I need to get out on my own."  
  
"Oh, Mark." his mother practically whined.  
  
"Mom!"  
  
"Oh, fine, for goodness sakes. Just, take care. I'm not sure your father would have agreed to that, anyway. I'm never sure what he would agree to anymore."  
  
Mark let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Mom."  
  
Mrs. Cohen smiled, then a thought seemed to strike her. "Oh! Before you go, I want to give you something."  
  
When she returned, she held something out to Mark, who took it in his hands and examined it. "What's this? .I mean, it's obviously a camera. But, umm.. Why?"  
  
"Well, I know this might sound silly," his mother began, "but I thought you could make some video letters to send back to me. I want to be able to see and hear my boy."  
  
Mark smiled at her. It was a silly idea, but he would try to make the best of it with his given situation.  
  
----------  
  
Eventually, Mark found himself in the East Village, trying in any way to sell some paintings.  
  
He wasn't doing too well, and he found himself getting frustrated as well as bored.  
  
He picked up the camera his mother had given to him and started fiddling with it, just to pass the time. After awhile, he turned it on and started filming. He thought that later he might paint the scene.  
  
A few minutes passed when Mark focused in on something his was catching on the film. A young couple was conversing with a gruff-looking man. It looked like some sort of drug deal. Should he report this to the cops?  
  
He kept the camera trained on the transaction, when suddenly he realized that the couple had noticed him.  
  
They finished their deal and started walking towards him. No matter how much his thoughts tried to convince him, he didn't find himself to have the mobile ability to put the camera down.  
  
Finally, when the couple was practically close enough to hear him as he whimpered, he put the camera down hastily.  
  
"Why were you filming us?" the guy snapped.  
  
"Uh.. F-f-f-filming-filming y-you?" Mark stuttered.  
  
The guy snorted. "Yeah."  
  
Mark gulped.  
  
"Because you certainly can't use that for any film."  
  
The light bulb turned on in Mark's head. "Oh! I just h-happened to t-turn the camera on. I-I didn't mean to-I mean, I wasn't-I don't-"  
  
"You don't make documentaries?"  
  
"Uh.something like that."  
  
So, the guy had mistaken him for a filmmaker, that wasn't a big deal. Right now, all Mark was worried about was saving his own skin.  
  
"So, what's your story?" the guy asked.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Who are you and what are you doing here?"  
  
"Oh, umm.I'm Mark Cohen. I was sort of trying to sell some stuff so I could get someplace to stay. Unfortunately for me, it seems that it's not going so well."  
  
The guy nodded. "I'm Roger, this is April. Why don't you come with us?"  
  
"Uh.okay?" Mark was more than a bit nervous. What if these people were serial killers or something to that effect?  
  
Roger raised his eyebrows. "We don't bite, you know," he said jokingly.  
  
"Right. Of course." Mark forced himself to laugh.  
  
He actually found himself following them down the street.  
  
--------  
  
When the arrived at the loft, Collins looked Mark up and down when he walked in. "A new victim?" And then he laughed at his own joke.  
  
"Mark Cohen." Mark introduced himself.  
  
"What do you do?" Collins asked.  
  
Mark hesitated and Roger answered. "He's some sort of filmmaker." Mark cringed inside.  
  
Collins stepped forward to shake hands. "Tom Collins," he said. "My friends call me Collins. I'm a teacher. Computer Age Philosophy. But unfortunately, people keep firing me."  
  
"Why is that?" Mark asked.  
  
"Oh! I know this one!" Roger raised his hand in a student-like manner. "For his theory of Actual Reality. Which actually isn't all that bad, considering that he ran naked through the Parthenon."  
  
Mark heard someone laugh, and that's when he discovered that there was in fact someone else in the room.  
  
Collins noticed Mark's shift of attention. "That's Benny," he told him. "He can't get a job, because he has too many morals."  
  
Benny shook his head. "That's not true. That wouldn't be a reason not to hire someone. A company would want morals."  
  
"Yeah, sure." Collins laughed once more, and Benny joined him.  
  
Mark looked between Roger and April.  
  
"What is this?" April finally complained after a moment's silence. "A share- some-personal-information party? Fuck that!"  
  
Roger took her so her body was against his. "Really?"  
  
"Yeah. Fuck."  
  
"Fuck," Roger repeated. He signaled his eyes towards the door to the bedroom.  
  
April smiled at him. They both went into the bedroom and shut the door behind them.  
  
Mark didn't know what their deal was, but they certainly did swear a lot. And he couldn't find it in himself to even remotely like either of them. He didn't think he ever could like them. It was impossible.  
  
----------  
  
A few months later, it was almost winter, and starting to get cold. Mark was sitting in front of an illegal wood-burning stove, which the group kept for when the heat was shut off.  
  
He looked at the things that he was throwing in there: paintings. Every single one of them that he had brought with him.  
  
He looked at the last one fondly. It had been his favorite, the one that he wasn't sure that he could sell and part with, but it probably was the only one that ever could sell.  
  
He was about to drop it in when somebody entered and interrupted him.  
  
Mark looked up, it was Roger.  
  
Mark didn't like Roger, and he was pretty afraid of him as well.  
  
Roger sensed his apprehension. "Don't worry. I'm not high," he told him.  
  
Mark nodded but didn't relax.  
  
Roger sat down next to him. "What are you doing?" he asked.  
  
"Oh, just.you know.. Burning the past to the ground."  
  
"And feeling the heat of the future's glow?"  
  
"Something like that."  
  
Roger nodded. "I feel like that sometimes. Only for me, I have nothing I can burn." He looked at the painting Mark still held in his hand. "You might want to keep that one."  
  
Mark looked at him. His words seemed genuine. "Why?"  
  
"You can't burn everything."  
  
Mark looked at it once more. He considered saying 'Why not?' but dismissed the idea and put the painting down. His eyes followed it to his side and stayed there.  
  
"You weren't a filmmaker, were you?" Roger asked him.  
  
"No."  
  
"So, why.?"  
  
"I don't know," Mark said. "I used to like to paint, but it's like it's died on me. I like doing this now, though." He pointed to the camera.  
  
Roger smiled slightly and they both were silent. But it wasn't an uncomfortable silence like it would usually be. It was a companionable silence.  
  
Mark realized for the first time that the person who he thought he would hate most, might end up the only person he could really talk to. The person who would understand.  
  
Mark struck a match and they both watched the rest of the paintings burn.  
  
----------  
  
"Have I got the treat for you guys," Collins announced as he entered a few days later.  
  
Mark, Roger and Benny were present in the loft. April was out once more.  
  
"And what would that be?" Roger asked.  
  
"I found this place. You'll see," Collins answered. "And once we get there, you'll see that this is definitely for you and not for me." He switched over to a really corny-sounding voice. "I'm doing this out of the kindness of my heart."  
  
They all laughed.  
  
When they got there, they realized that the place was a club. It was called The Cat Scratch Club.  
  
"What is this place?" Mark asked.  
  
Roger looked at him and half laughed, half snorted, but he didn't say anything.  
  
Mark found out soon enough.  
  
When they got inside a voice was just finishing announcing, ".the feline of Avenue B.Mimi!"  
  
Mark looked up on the stage. "Avenue B? She lives on our street?"  
  
"Apparently," Roger stated.  
  
Benny was transfixed with the girl and what she was doing. "Wow."  
  
What she was doing involved being tied up with handcuffs and also involved a lawn chair.  
  
They all found seats and Roger sat back comfortable. Benny sat up bolt straight not taking his eyes off the action on stage for even a second. Mark tried closing his eyes for a second, like as if this was something he was forcing himself not to watch, then he peaked out again.  
  
Finally, he said, "She looks a little too young, doesn't she?"  
  
Roger shrugged.  
  
She did look young, teenager young, but it wasn't as if anyone else in the room cared to notice.  
  
---------  
  
They were walking down the street laughing, when they bumped into April.  
  
"Where have you been?" she asked.  
  
"Just.somewhere," Roger answered her.  
  
April took in a deep breath and nodded, pretending to accept the answer as legitimate.  
  
"Roger." she said shakily. You could see the beads of sweat standing out on her forehead despite the cold weather.  
  
Roger took her hand, and they both headed off.  
  
"Where are they going?" Mark asked.  
  
"Didn't you see?" Collins asked him. "They're addicted to drugs in a major way. Now they're getting some more."  
  
Mark didn't respond. He didn't know how to respond. He just continued down the street and inside he hoped the best for the person he had come to be friends with.  
  
He suddenly was overcome with the strangest feeling. This wasn't over, life was going to change, and for the worse. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. 


	5. Maureen

Part 5-Maureen  
  
"What has happened here?" Maureen Johnson called out in a voice that only a person who was concentrating solely on her body and not anything else, could love.  
  
Her equipment was a mess, an absolute mess, and her performance was tonight.  
  
She turned angrily to the Fabio-look-alike that was standing not far away from the catastrophe that had come of her equipment.  
  
He gave her a sexy smile, as if that would make her forget everything.  
  
She sidled up to him. "Pookie," she said softly in his ear, "what did you do to the equipment?"  
  
He pulled her closer up against his body. "Just a little mistake," he replied.  
  
She pushed him away forcefully. "Little!?!" she screamed at him. "My equipment is now an official disaster! I have no idea how it is going to be salvaged before my performance tonight!"  
  
"Geez, babe, cool down."  
  
Maureen gave him an icy cold stare.  
  
He tried to put his arms around her shoulders and she shoved him off.  
  
"We're over!" she yelled in his face.  
  
He looked at the ground for a second. "You're breaking up with me?" he asked.  
  
"Yes!" Maureen said. "Now go away! Leave!"  
  
The guy started walking away, then turned around. "Maureen?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Tonight?"  
  
"Not tonight," she told him. "I'll call you." She winked and he smiled. "But otherwise, we are officially over! Okay?"  
  
He laughed and walked away.  
  
Maureen looked around her. What to do now? Her equipment was still a mess, and now she needed somewhere to stay as well.  
  
Then she spotted two guys coming out of the building right next to her lot. One of them looked like a total dork-pass. But the other guy looked.interesting.  
  
She ran towards them, and in her best damsel-in-distress voice she said, "You guys have got to help me. I have a performance tonight, and all of my equipment for it is a total mess. I don't know what I'm going to do."  
  
The good-looking guy raised an eyebrow at her. They weren't gay, were they? Her life would be over.  
  
"Um." the other guy seemed uncertain of how to respond.  
  
"I gotta go," the good-looking guy said. He turned to his friend. "I've gotta meet April. See you later." He took off.  
  
"Umm.bye!" the dork said after his retreating friend.  
  
"April?" Maureen inquired.  
  
The guy turned towards her. "His girlfriend," he told her.  
  
Damn. She turned around slightly, looking again.  
  
"But, uh.. I could help you," he said. "I'm Mark."  
  
She turned back to face him. "You could help me?" she asked him. She tried not to laugh.  
  
"Yeah," he said.  
  
She might as well let the guy try. She may not have gotten herself a boyfriend, but at least she might get her equipment fixed.  
  
Mark looked around at her equipment. "This is pretty bad," he told her. "Who did this?"  
  
"My ex-boyfriend."  
  
"Oh."  
  
She wanted to laugh the guy was obviously overwhelmed. Her ex had done a pretty damn-good job at messing her equipment up completely.  
  
She sighed. How was she ever going to get this fixed?  
  
She walked a little away. She rubbed her temples; she was getting a headache.  
  
Mark came up to her five minutes later. He's given up already? The thought disappointed her a little.  
  
But then she looked back at her equipment. It was completely fixed.  
  
"How'd you do that so fast?" she asked.  
  
He shrugged and smiled. Now that she looked at him properly, she noticed that he was kind of cute.  
  
"Well, thank you very much," she told him. "You're the best."  
  
"Your welcome." He blushed. "I guess I should be going."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You see, I'm working on this film.or at least trying to. And I really don't have anything resembling a cast or anything."  
  
"Of course I'll do it!" Maureen exclaimed.  
  
"Huh?" Mark was lost.  
  
"I'll be in your film, of course."  
  
"You will? I mean, you will."  
  
Maureen smiled at him and almost laughed.  
  
"So what's this for?" Mark asked her.  
  
"I have a performance tonight," Maureen answered him.  
  
"What's it about?"  
  
"You'll see." Maureen paused for a second. "You are coming, right?"  
  
"I don't even know-"  
  
Maureen cut him off. "Damn!" she shouted.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I just broke up with my boyfriend, and now I have no place to stay," Maureen complained.  
  
"You could stay with me and my friends," Mark jumped in. "At least for the night."  
  
Maureen smiled at him. Good boy.  
  
Mark shook his head. "But I don't even know your name." He laughed at himself.  
  
"Maureen."  
  
--------------  
  
Maureen spent the afternoon with Mark helping him post up fliers for casting for his film. She had to admit she had fun. Once Mark was a little more comfortable, he had quite the sense of humor.  
  
When they got to the loft, all of the others were sprawled around the main room in various locations.  
  
"Hi guys," Mark started, "this is-"  
  
"Maureen Johnson," Maureen cut in. "Performance artist."  
  
"I know you," Roger said. "You're the girl from this morning."  
  
"Well, yeah." Maureen rolled her eyes.  
  
April looked her up and down. "You obviously think you're hot shit."  
  
Maureen snorted. "And you don't?" she asked accusingly.  
  
April didn't respond and Maureen smirked.  
  
Mark started introducing around the room. "Maureen, this is Collins, and then Benny, and that's Roger." He paused, sensing that the two girls were not going to get along, before finally saying, "And that's April."  
  
-----------------  
  
"How'd you like my performance?" Maureen asked Mark after it was all over.  
  
Mark looked at her. She was lying on her stomach eating strawberries from a small plastic container.  
  
"It was good, but.uh.honestly?" Mark asked hesitantly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I think you could do something better than that."  
  
Maureen was curious. She stood up. "What do you mean?"  
  
"You should do something that comes from the heart. That has meaning. Something that will affect the people watching in some way."  
  
Maureen looked at him for a second. It was crazy, but he was actually making sense to her.  
  
"You get what I mean?" Mark asked.  
  
"Actually, I do," she answered.  
  
Then she did something to him that she never, ever, in her entire life thought she would do to someone as dorky as Mark.  
  
She kissed him.  
  
---------------  
  
A week went by, and the two went on a few dates. Mark certainly wasn't Maureen's usual type, and to top it off, he was slightly younger than her. But she was strangely attracted to him anyway.  
  
They walked inside together and Maureen noticed something that she had never heard in the loft before.  
  
Silence.  
  
"Where is everyone?" Maureen asked.  
  
Mark thought for a second. "Collins is at the university, Benny is with him playing teacher's assistant, Roger and April are who-knows-where, but they're out."  
  
"Are they coming back soon?" Something was egging at the back of Maureen's mind.  
  
"I don't think so," Mark told her.  
  
Maureen was silent for a moment, and then seemed to decide on something.  
  
She started kissing him very deeply. Then she made a grab for his shirt.  
  
Mark pulled away from her. "Maureen, what are you doing?"  
  
Maureen put a hand on her hip. "Don't you find me attractive?"  
  
"Yes, you're.very attractive."  
  
"Then what's the problem?" Maureen was getting annoyed. She had waited a week for him. Maureen never waited a week.  
  
Mark was getting nervous. "I-I just don't think we should be doing this."  
  
"Why the fuck not?"  
  
Mark's cheeks started turning pink. "I, uh.I'm.I-I.I'm." he gave up.  
  
Maureen sighed. "Don't tell me you're a virgin?"  
  
Mark's face was now completely red.  
  
Maureen started massaging her temples. Then she spoke up, "Do you want to die a virgin?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then you're going to have to do it sometime."  
  
"I know that."  
  
Maureen sighed. "Well then it's now or never, kiddo."  
  
Mark looked at his feet for a second, and then looked back up. "You mean you still want to?"  
  
Maureen shrugged, but it was more then that. It was his innocence that attracted her to him like a moth to light. That and something else.some indescribable quality that Mark had that for some reason made him irresistible to Maureen.  
  
She gave him her sexiest smile. "I'll help you along."  
  
A/N: It will probably be awhile before I get the sixth (and final!) chapter out. It's the longest, and I'm actually still working on it. I get horrible writer's block. And I actually want to turn this into something decent. But I figured maybe putting this much out will give me motivation to write. PLEASE give me comments. I don't mind criticism at all. 


	6. And Into The Abyss part 1

A/N: So, I lied. This isn't going to be the last part. I've decided to split the last part into two. It's right where it shifts gears anyway. At least that's the plan. I may go on more after when I planned to have it finished, but I'm not sure.  
  
Part 6-And Into the Abyss.  
  
Collins turned the corner and found Mark playing with some wiring.  
  
"Fuck," Mark mumbled to himself.  
  
"Mark Cohen," Collins exclaimed in fake shock. "Wherever did you learn that word? It's not like we say it that much around here." He laughed.  
  
Mark looked up at him and rolled his eyes. He shivered and his breath was visible in the freezing air. "Very funny. You ever consider comedy instead of philosophy?" He cracked a smile.  
  
Collins shook his head. "What are you doing?" he asked.  
  
"I'm fixing this for Maureen," Mark stated simply.  
  
Collins sighed. "You're not her slave, you know."  
  
"I know," Mark replied. "Sometimes I feel like it," he whispered under his breath.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
Truth be told, many times Mark felt like pulling out all of his hair, Maureen was so frustrating. Any sensible person would have dumped her, but apparently Mark didn't have much common sense.  
  
At least he wasn't alone.  
  
That was basically what he feared most. To end up all alone. He had spent most of his life that way, and he didn't want to go back to that. Now he had friends, and even a girlfriend. He couldn't imagine what life would be like if he lost anything now.  
  
"I'm okay," he said. He rubbed his hands together.  
  
"Well, I'm not so sure," Collins told him.  
  
"What do you mean by that?"  
  
Collins put a hand on Mark's shoulder. "I just don't want you getting hurt. Sometimes it's smarter to just back away."  
  
Mark was silent and he looked down at the ground. Collins waited a minute, and then left.  
  
"I love her," Mark whispered. He thought dimly that it was really more to convince himself than. He looked up. .the air.  
  
He shivered and went back to work.  
  
------------------  
  
Collins walked in the loft door noisily.  
  
"What's that?" Roger immediately asked, and pointed at a large box in Collins' hands.  
  
"Christmas decorations," Collins answered. "Anyone wanna help?" He looked around the room.  
  
Mark shrugged. "I'll help."  
  
Roger looked at him. "I thought you were Jewish."  
  
Mark paused for a second. "Liberal."  
  
April snorted. "The last time I checked, that didn't mean that you celebrate Christmas," she commented.  
  
"True. But." Mark turned to the people in the loft as a whole. "The holidays is this time of year when people can just come together and celebrate as a community. It's a time where we can look at ourselves and forget about all of our angers.and.and.our judgments and.whatever else we might hold against each other. It's a time to just be ourselves and rejoice in the fact that we are who we are. We are us." Mark stood in silence for a while as everyone just stared at him. He laughed a bit uncomfortably. "As long as you don't get all religious on me." He blushed.  
  
Suddenly, Collins broke out singing, "Oh holy night."  
  
Everyone started laughing.  
  
---------------  
  
Roger opened his eyes. He looked at April beside him, still fast asleep.  
  
There was something jabbing at his subconscious. Something tearing him away from his sleep.  
  
He got up and rubbed his eyes, which cleared his vision, but not his head.  
  
He looked down at April, and abstract thoughts began forming in his mind. He often wondered if he really loved her. Roger didn't think that he actually knew what love was. But most of these questioning thoughts where interrupted by sex or drugs. And there was also a thought; one thought that drowned out all of the rest. The strange, yet constant thought that April would lead him to his destiny. This made no sense, of course, because Roger didn't really believe that he had a destiny.  
  
Roger quickly got dressed and exited the small room. Without stopping to put on his coat, he left the loft.  
  
When he was outside, he ignored the bitter cold December air and started walking.  
  
A strange sense came over him. He'd done this before, in another time, another place.  
  
He came to a short stop in front of a cheery sign about Christmas. As if Christmas '93 was going to be better than any other crappy year that had come before. That was when he lost complete focus.  
  
Roger vaguely thought that he'd lost something. Something that was vital in order for him to keep walking the way that he was. However, nothing was processing. No sense was getting its message all the way to his brain. Not sight, not sound, not anything.  
  
He stopped once more, and for a brief moment, his senses returned to him. He suddenly heard the screeching of tires and felt something hitting him straight on.  
  
Then, he went unconscious.  
  
---------------  
  
Maureen stood in front of the mirror gazing at herself.  
  
She'd been thinking. Almost thinking too much. It was making her head hurt. It had been a month since Roger was hit by that car and he'd since returned home. But something.changed during that space in time. Something colossally important had changed. She somehow got the feeling that if things hadn't gone out exactly as they did, everything would be completely different right now.  
  
Before Roger had gotten himself hit, everything had been going just fine. But once Mark found out that Roger was in the hospital it was like she didn't even exist. She wasn't used to being ignored and for the first time in her life she'd felt dejected. And just because Mark was concerned about his best friend. A little voice in her head chided her for being so vain. A louder voice in her head yelled at the little voice to shut up.  
  
Maureen looked down at the object she was holding and tapped her foot on the ground. She'd never been this nervous before in her life. Or felt this guilty. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt guilty at all. Damn, that boy was getting to her.  
  
She heard the door start to open behind her. She swiveled around quickly and shoved her hand behind her back.  
  
"Mark."  
  
"Um.I'm sorry I just barged in on you like this." he looked embarrassed. A larger wave of guilt washed over her. For as long as she remembered she had always believed she could have anyone that she wanted. But now she realized that she didn't deserve Mark. He was too good, too loyal for someone like her. And when he leaves her alone even when his best friend's life is in danger she goes and cheats on him.  
  
"It's okay," she told him and carefully stuffed the object in a drawer. She took a breath. "Too bad you didn't walk in on me naked." She gave him a playful smile.  
  
He smiled back at her. Well.at least he didn't blush anymore.  
  
She took his hand. "You've been in here awhile," Mark commented.  
  
"Yeah." for once she couldn't think of anything else to say.  
  
They stood there for a while, just looking at each other. Not sure what to say, not sure what to do, not sure of anything.  
  
"So.I'll just finish up in here and I'll be right out," Maureen finally said.  
  
"Sure."  
  
They kissed. "I love you," Mark whispered in her ear and as he did, Maureen died inside. "I do too, Pookie."  
  
Mark pulled away from her. "You've never called me that before."  
  
"I know," Maureen said thoughtfully.  
  
Mark left, at which point Maureen turned around, quickly pulled the object out of the drawer and looked at it.an early pregnancy test.negative. She breathed a sigh of relief. At least this trial was over.  
  
But something else was changing inside of her. The guy she'd cheated on Mark with was her usual type, extremely hot with plenty of muscles, but she hadn't felt anything. She'd observed his hotness as a kind of scientific measure, not actual attraction. She hadn't actually felt anything at all.  
  
She didn't know what was happening to her and this fact disturbed her more than anything else.  
  
-------------  
  
"Hey Collins," Mark greeted as he entered the loft.  
  
Collins smiled at him warmly. "Alone?"  
  
Mark looked around him as if such an action would change the status of his company. He finally answered, "Yeah."  
  
Collins went back to something he was writing.  
  
"Collins?" Mark asked timidly.  
  
"Yes?" Collins looked up as if this was exactly what he'd been expecting.  
  
"Do." Mark took a breath. "Do you ever wish you had.someone?"  
  
Collins had the look of someone whose entire expectations had just been flushed down the drain. "Well, I don't consider that the only important thing in my life. I have my friends," he smiled, "that's what really matters."  
  
"I suppose." Mark paused. "But don't you ever get lonely?"  
  
"Sometimes. But it never gets the chance to overcome me. Loneliness is something that should never swallow someone whole. There's always something else to consider. No one should stay with someone just because they're afraid to sleep alone at night."  
  
"Was that a pointed comment?" Mark questioned.  
  
Collins raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. Is it?"  
  
Mark sighed. "I don't know what to do. I think Maureen's cheating on me. But I don't want to accuse her if.well.I mean." he closed his eyes in frustration and then opened them again. "I don't know what I mean."  
  
Collins nodded. "What do you know?" he asked.  
  
"I know that she spends nights away without explanation," Mark stated. "And then she tends to call me Pookie afterwards.I'm not sure what that's about."  
  
"So what are you going to do about it?" Collins asked him, finally trying to get out of Mark what he'd been trying to for months.  
  
"I don't know." Mark said cautiously before, "No, I can't-I can't!" And with that he swiftly left the loft.  
  
-----------  
  
"Why do I feel like the holidays is the only time we're all in the same place at the same time?" Mark randomly asked the group.  
  
"Because that is absolutely true, my man," Roger pointed out.  
  
"Well, it shouldn't be," Mark commented as stubbornly as a five-year-old.  
  
Roger shrugged. Everyone looked at each other.  
  
"Why the sudden interest?" Maureen asked him.  
  
"No reason," Mark responded. "It's just.I wish." And a million words were left unspoken.  
  
-------------------  
  
Benny whistled to himself as he got a glass of milk. He had an interview today. An actual interview with a big company. Interviews always made him optimistic, mainly because they were so few and far between that one of them sometime had to be The One. First he just had to stay in the loft long enough to give the landlord their rent payment. Everyone else was conveniently elsewhere. He smiled to himself. They all hated playing business.  
  
There was a knock at the door. He looked at the clock. "A bit early.." He thought aloud.  
  
When he opened the door he took a double take, for standing just outside the loft was not the old man that he had expected, but rather a beautiful blonde woman.  
  
"Uh.hi," he said, taken aback. He paused for a moment, then realized he was gaping. "I'm sorry, I was expecting the landlord. And you are?"  
  
"His daughter." She smiled and held out her hand, which Benny shook. "Alison Grey. And you're Mr.-?"  
  
"Coffin. Benny."  
  
"Nice to meet you." She smiled warmly, and Benny suddenly felt as if the sun was shining just for him.  
  
He blushed. "Nice to meet you too."  
  
"So, my father sent me down here because he was caught up in a business deal. Therefore, unfortunately, I'm going to have to ask you for the rent." She sat down and crossed her legs.  
  
Benny tried not to stare at her and he crossed the room to get the money off the counter. "That's okay. It's all right here," he told her.  
  
"Great." She smiled again as she took the money from him. "So I guess I should be going."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
She left and Benny sighed wistfully. It was just too bad she was so far out of his league. He could still dream. And speaking of which.all those thoughts about Alison and he almost forgot about his interview. It was a good thing she'd been early. Benny went out the door in a slightly different mood than he'd been in earlier. 


End file.
